If Memory Serves You Well
by Hufflepuffian
Summary: In retrospect, being washed out to sea wouldn’t have been too bad of a way to go, but at the time, I was more than thrilled. [Original Character] [Rated T for safety] [Chapters 1 and 2 up!]
1. Day 1

**Author's Note:** Alright, so here's my third attempt at writing this fanfic. First time, I got along, but I decided chapters were too short; second time the chapter size was fine, I just didn't like how I had changed the story. This story is very much dedicated to Mandy who was with me when I first wrote it, and unless you're brain dead, you know that I named a character after her. Currently I've got chapter 1 and chapter 2 done so I'll be posting them. Please read and review, because I thrive on comments and I would love to know what you think, even if it's just you saying that "it's good" or "it's bad". I also really appreciate grammar corrections, especially with my persons (I had to redo bits of this because I slipped into third person). Thanks! - Brandon.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Lost, however the characters of Christopher Darwin, Arlene, and Mandy belong to me, as well as minor flashback characters. Lost is owned by ABC.

* * *

I knew it would be a bad day, with everything going as planned—it never does-- up until the point we crashed onto the island. I got an extra pancake at breakfast, walked into an Aussie girl who gave me her number, and I actually enjoyed my lunch at the airport—why did nobody tell me that you could buy something other than crap at them? Of course, it didn't matter anymore, we were all dead (and if we weren't dead yet, we would all be dead soon). I was actually asleep for most of the crash, but I knew something was wrong when I felt my head against sand and people were screaming.

"Finally!" a voice called as I raised my head, rubbing it slightly with one hand while the other kept me balanced. It hurt. "Come on, get up." As I put my hand back down onto the ground, almost instantly I felt another on top of mine. I knew it was a girl's, as it was soft. She helped me to my feet and let go of my hand. "You're lucky you didn't land any further to the water, you could have been washed out to sea."

In retrospect, being washed out to sea wouldn't have been too bad of a way to go, but at the time, I was more than thrilled. "Thanks," I said, in my usual calm demeanor. I heard her laugh and say 'no problem'. She sounded American, or from somewhere with an accent I couldn't identify, so my first guess was probably the best one. "I'm Chris."

"Arlene," she replied and I nodded slowly. Arlene? Yeah, she was American, and probably an old one at that. She chuckled after I nodded, probably catching my feelings about her name. "Yeah, it's an old name, but I don't look that old, do I?" I just shrugged and told her I was no good at judging ages.

"I… I can barely see with these sunglasses on," I told her, as my reason.

"Then take them off," she suggested, and I once again felt her hand on my skin as she tried to take them off. "It's not that bright out."

Before she could remove them, I pushed them back on and shook my head. "Nah, just not used to the light yet. They're… uh… prescription, and I think my regular ones were lost in the crash."

"Oh, all right," she said and removed her hand. There were more screams from around us. How we had an entire conversation with all the chaos going on was beyond me. "We should go help…" she said slowly, and for the third time in the span of five minutes that we'd known each other, I felt her touch me, this time wrapping her hand around mine. "Come on."

* * *

"_Oh, you look adorable!" my mother had always treated me like a baby. Her hands came down onto my shoulders and I tried to struggle out of her grasp to little avail. "Just like when you were little!" The problem with that statement was that: 1) my girlfriend was standing next to her, probably laughing at me and my embarrassment, and 2) I was 25. _

"_Seriously, mom, I'm more than capable of doing this," I said angrily and the weight of her body leaning over my suddenly left as she removed her hands, probably annoyed at me._

"_Fine," she said in a stand-offish sort of way; that was how she reacted whenever I tried to gain independence growing up, she had a bit of trouble letting her chicks leave the nest, but she did have good reason. "I was just making sure you were okay."_

"_He's fine, Ms. Darwin," my girlfriend mused, "really." She sounded amused, so I figured the spectacle of my mother babying me was only funny to her, not emotionally scaring. It was an improvement from the last one. _

_My mother let out an annoyed sound, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth and I heard her footsteps pull away from me. "Well then, if you two are fine by yourselves," she paused and the echo of the clicking of her heels sank in, "I'll be downstairs. Let me know when you're going, though." The footsteps began again and within a few moments, we were alone._

"_I haven't seen any baby pictures of you yet," she said to me between chuckles. Angrily, I turned my head over to her and glared._

"_Neither have I," was all I said and the topic was dropped._

"_So, what do you want to do today, then?" she asked me as I tried to calm myself down. _

"_I don't know. Do you just want to go for some lunch?" I responded, still slightly annoyed at her._

"_Sure."_

* * *

The most interesting thing about the first day was how quickly people took to random strangers. All over the beach people were introducing themselves and friendships were being forged. After our superhero attempts to help people, Arlene had just ran off, and I hadn't seen her since. I wasn't complaining, I didn't want to be bothered by people. We were stuck on an island and these people… they were already facing the inevitable. 

"Hey," I heard from behind me. It was a quiet voice, a girl's. Slowly, I turned my head around.

"Hi?" I questioned. I figured I was far enough away from people to not be involved in conversations, but still close enough to not be considered a social outcast.

"Just wanted to say hi. And thanks."

The voice wasn't one I recognized, but she sounded young, and probably also American. For some reason, there were no Australians on this flight except one that I heard—a whiny pregnant woman. When she said she wanted to thank me, I began to feel concerned. I didn't remember this person, and if they were just fooling around, I would look like an idiot if I played along, and if I told them I didn't now who they were, I would look like an idiot. We had only been on the island for a few hours and I was already forgetting names. "Oh," was all I could say to her.

"If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't have gotten out from under those seats."

I managed a quiet laugh and said, "no problem." Still didn't remember the girl.

"I'm Mandy."

"Chris."

A few moments passed before she said anything, although I wasn't sure if it was me who was to continue the conversation, I didn't exactly understand women.

"How are you?" she asked me and I tried to stifle laughter.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm enjoying being stranded on a deserted island." I was, very much, a sarcastic person, especially around strangers. An event like this, a plane crash with forty-something complete strangers was on my list of things I hoped would never happen. I wouldn't fit in—even if I bothered trying.

* * *

"_Do you want to talk about it?" _

_That was the first thing she asked after we were seated at the restaurant. Due to a sale, lunch had turned into dinner, because the 'me likey shoes' side of my girlfriend had come out, and once that happened the only thing stopping her would be chocolate cake, but I had none on me. Uncomfortably, I adjusted myself in my seat. "About what?" I asked her._

"_You know," was all she said, and I did know, but I didn't know why she was asking, so I merely shrugged. "You've been depressed ever since… you hurt you mother's feelings earlier, she was just playing around."_

_My head was facing the floor and nervously, my hands squirmed around in my lap. "I'm not depressed," I told her as firmly as I could._

"_You know that's not true," she responded briskly. My heart sank with that, wondering if I really was becoming a different person. "I was just thinking… maybe you should see a shrink about this."_

"_Are you referring me to somebody?!" I asked her, raising my head. I probably said it a bit too loudly considering the public place we were in, but I didn't care about people staring at me. _

"_I… I already have."_

"_What?!" I said, completely flabbergasted. I didn't speak for about a minute, because that was the length of time it took me to pick my mouth up from off the floor. "Who are you to refer me for psychological help?"_

"_I'm your girlfriend, Chris, that's who I am." She sounded upset. I began to feel bad that I had said such a stupid thing to her, because she meant well, she always did._

_Again, I had trouble finding words to respond to her, and our table fell absolutely quiet. I wasn't focusing on anything except my thoughts and trying to collect them. Absent-mindedly, I reached into my pockets and pulled something out of them. Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Eventually, I squeezed out the words 'I'm sorry' from the knot in my throat and put the item from my pocket on the table. "Will you… marry me?"_

_It had been something I wanted to ask for a while now, we had never discussed it, but I loved her more than anything. I wanted to prove to her that I loved her. Calmly, I waited for a response, or at the very least a reaction. When nothing came, I heard a laughter coming from the table beside me._

"_Dude, she's been gone for like 10 minutes. You blind, or something?"_

_Unfortunately, I was. _


	2. Day 7

**Author's Note: **So, here's the second chapter for you guys. The last flashback definitely shows a different side of Chris you may not see for a while. Or maybe you will, it depends. Heh. Please read and review, because like I said, I thrive on criticism. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Lost, however the characters of Christopher Darwin, Arlene, and Mandy belong to me, as well as minor flashback characters. Lost is owned by ABC.

* * *

One week on the island, and I was more than ready to be rescued. In fact, most people were, but there was the odd exception. Still, people were looking to build shelter, scour for food, and search for drinking water. Personally, I wanted no part of it, because there was no way they wouldn't be able to find us, the pilot must have given our location over the black box, although rumors said otherwise. I didn't let that get to me, though. This island was probably huge and for all we knew on the other side there was a small village or something and they could get us help.

But, I still had no part of it, because there was no point. I spent most of my time just sitting on the beach, trying to relax. I still had no word from Arlene, but Mandy did come over to try and talk to me, unfortunately.

"Hey, Chrissy." For some reason, I had acquired the nickname 'Chrissy' from the others. "How are ya?"

"The usual," I merely said, "really enjoying being on a deserted island."

That was usually the length of our conversations, because my sarcasm would get to her. I didn't mind, she was an annoying kid, and I didn't want to talk to her anyway. "Oh," she said, and paused for a few moments before continuing. "Why do you act like that?"

"Like what?" I responded, adjusting myself on the sand.

I heard faint footsteps and the sloshing of pants, before a quiet 'huff'. She was sitting next to me, I could feel the sleeve of her t-shirt rubbing against my bare arm. "Sarcastic. That, and antisocial. People are getting worried about you, they think you might have become depressed since the crash."

"I'm not depressed," I informed her, quickly becoming defensive.

She snickered at that. "Right," she said bluntly, "because there's nothing depressive about sitting on a beach all day without saying a word. Nobody knows who you are."

"I don't plan on living on this island all my life, and as soon as we're rescued, we all go our separate ways. Why should I make friends?" I asked her, beginning to sound bitter.

"Haven't you heard about--"

"—What, the black box? I don't believe it, there's no way we could have miraculously landed on an unchartered island."

She didn't say anything after that, I probably annoyed her too much with my bitterness, but everything I said was true. No point in making friends with people you'll never see again.

* * *

_I sat in my apartment for about a week after the incident in the restaurant. I didn't answer the door (they were probably all Jehovah's, anyway), pick up the phone (no point in talking to bill collectors), and only ate the canned foods in my pantry, although I ran out of most of it halfway through the week, so I was starving. _

_It was just past 11 when there was a knock at my door. In usual fashion, I just remained on the couch, withering away. The knocking continued for a few seconds and it really started to try my patience, but I still remained in my seat. After the excessive knocking ended, I figured they had given up and gone away, realizing I don't want to be prepared for the apocalypse. I was already facing it._

_My wishes, however, were not entirely fulfilled, when I heard my doorknob rattling. That brought the list of people down to it being my mother, my landlord, or a burglar with a hairpin. I rolled my eyes and closed them. Maybe pretending to sleep would give me a reason as to why I didn't answer the door. Of course, it didn't, and my mother walked in. "Where the hell have you been?" she shouted as the door swung open. Surprise, surprise: she was mad at me. That was truly unusual. _

"_Here," was all I managed to respond to her with. I hadn't spoken to anybody in about a week, and my voice was hoarse from that. Now I knew how mimes felt, at least. _

"_I figured that, but why are you here? You haven't answered the phone, the door, or gone in to work for a week. We're starting to get worried." She spoke as if she knew what was going on, but she forgot to mention I hadn't cleaned, bathed, shaved, changed my clothes, or brushed my teeth, either. But I'd let her have her moment. "How's Cassandra?" she asked._

"_Could care less," I responded, towards the second question. I highly doubted they were worried about me; they were just worried I wasn't there to do their housework. _

"_So is she what this is all about?" _

_I made a noise, one I can't really describe, and rolled over on the couch, my face looking towards the coffee table next to it. The box was supposed to be there, but I wasn't entirely sure, since as soon as I came in, I had thrown it. It either hit a wall, or I had impeccable aim for a blind guy shooting at nothing in particular. "Look for yourself," I suggested after a moment or two._

_She did. Slowly, her heels sounded towards me, I could hear her breathing heavily, as if she had just walked up twenty flights of stairs (which was odd, since I live on the first floor), and she looked at the table, just as I was. "Oh…" she merely said at first and reached towards the box. "Did she say no?" My mother didn't exactly sound surprised or upset for me. Figures._

"_No," I said slowly. "She left without telling me. Up and left."_

_When my mother didn't say anything in response, I really lost my trust in women. I waited for her, but when nothing came I figured she had left, too._

* * *

To my (pleasant) surprise, Mandy had left me alone for a few hours and had yet to return. And to my other surprise, it made the day pass by a whole lot slower than I would have liked. As much of an annoying brat as she was, she had a knack to make the day go by. Of course, there's not much to do when you're stuck on a stupid island. And there's even less to do when you're stuck on a stupid island and can't see a thing on it. One my fears had become whether somebody would find out about my blindness or not. I had been blind for ten years by this point and the one thing I hated was when people thought I couldn't care for myself, like I was a baby. 

If somebody had found out, I'd probably be stuck at camp all day, listening to the long, pointless speeches made by the doctor guy, who smelled like gin most of the time. Not exactly my kind of way to spend a day, but neither was sitting on the beach, feeling the water against my toes while I pondered of ways to get off the island.

My train of thought came to a screeching halt when I heard a voice that was slowly coming closer. "Come on, Paolo, let's go."

I turned my head, trying to acknowledge the person who was coming near me. "Yeah, I'm coming," came another voice, a guy's this time. "Why don't you ask this guy?" he continued.

The voices hushed, but not enough so I couldn't hear them, making these two complete idiots along with the whining Australian and the alcoholic doctor. I decided to call these two dumb and dumber.

"Why would I?" the girl responded with a quiet chuckle. "According to Sawyer, this guy doesn't talk. No point in trying."

I nearly burst out in laughter when she said that. I didn't talk? No, I spoke, but I didn't waste my breath with morons, unless they were Mandy, but even that was debatable.

"Hey, dude," the guy said—oh, how I loathed that word—despite the girl's decision not to, "have you seen any luggage around here?"

"Paolo!"

I snickered, not sure whether or not they could hear it, and answered, "nope, haven't seen much of anything."

"Told you, Nikki," the guy—Paolo—said with a laugh. "The guy can talk."

I didn't reply, I just pretended I couldn't hear them. Wouldn't want them to know their whispering skills were god-awful.

* * *

"_Chris! Where've you been?"_

_I couldn't possibly count the number of times I was asked that the day I went back to work. Of course, they probably thought I was on a deserted island or something, considering I still smelled like I hadn't showered in a week (which I hadn't), I had yet to shave, and my clothes weren't exactly as fancy as they usually were. The only reason I had even bothered to go was because my mother came back and told me that she had received a call from my boss, wondering where I was._

_To my surprise and regret, my mother told her everything. Like most people, I hated my boss, and the less she knew about my personal life, the better. _

"_Darwin," she said to me in the most formal voice she could. I stumbled into her office and felt around for a chair. I don't know why they still kept me around here, after I became blind I was promoted—or demoted, not sure yet—to 'research advisor'. Yeah, I don't know what the job entails, but sat at a desk and waited for people to ask me questions about what was going on. "Everything really slowed down when you went A.W.O.L."_

_I nodded slowly and looked down at the ground. Even though I couldn't see her, I didn't want to face her. "Yeah."_

"_Although, we are glad to have you back, you do have to know that what you did was extremely immature. And over a woman?" She snickered quietly at that. "Not like you at all."_

_I didn't want to hear this anymore. She had no right to reprimand me on my personal life. "Not at all, Ms. Widmore." God, I couldn't even stand up to her. _

"_It's Libby."_

"_Yeah…" I muttered, wishing she would just let me out of my misery and either fire me or let me get back to work._

"_Go back to work," she instructed me, and of course, being the blob of jello I was when I was around her, I obeyed and left the room without another word. _

_God, I was an idiot._


End file.
